Captain Price (Call of Duty) vs Garrus Vakarian (Mass Effect)
by thisstorywillsuck
Summary: When Captain MacMillan and Price are sent to assassinate Imran Zakhaev, a mysterious ship crashes in Chernobyl. Price soon finds himself in a sniper duel with the owner of the ship, Garrus Vakarian.


"At this distance, you'll also have to take the Coriolis effect into account."

Captain MacMillan must've reminded Lieutenant Price about the Coriolis effect a thousand times. Even now, as they lay at the top of an abandoned hotel in Pripyat with their target, Imran Zakhaev, in sight, the old Scotsman couldn't help but mention it again. Price steadied his breath, trying to gauge the choppy wind based on the flags on the hood of Zakhaev's trucks. Suddenly, the wind began to come fast and strong from the east. It would severely redirect his shot, but at least the wind was consistent. Price would be able to adjust for it.

"Standby to fire," MacMillan whispered. "Standby... standby... hold up. The hell is going on down there?"

The wind had picked up tremendously. Zakhaev and his soldiers all stared at the sky. Soon, they were holding onto their cars to save themselves from being knocked over by the wind overhead. Some fled all together.

MacMillan and Price looked to the sky in time to see a mysterious object break through the cloud line and collide into the courtyard before them.

"This wasn't in the mission briefing," Price said as he trained the sights of his Barret .50 cal on the crashed object. It was an oddly shaped metallic object about the size of a small house. A few Russian soldiers had already advanced on it to investigate.

"Some of the Russians are taking Zakhaev deeper into the city," Price pointed out.

"Mate," MacMillan said without taking his eyes away from his binoculars, "I have a feeling whatever just landed is vastly more important than a Russian arms dealer."

Five Russian soldiers had just arrived at the metallic device when a section began to move. Part of the metal surface broke away and light emitted from it. It was a door opening. From their angle, Price and MacMillan couldn't see inside the door. But the Russians could. They all trained their AK-47s on the door as it stretched open.

"I can see them talking" Price said to the Captain. "They're shouting at whatever is in there. I speak a bit of Russian. Any chance our intercept could listen in on their radio chatter?"

"We don't have the equipment to pull that off from- Shite! What are they doing?"

One Russian had fired into the metallic object but a green light shot back at him, tearing through him like a bullet. The rest opened fire, only to be decimated by green shots of light.

"Jaysus Christ," MacMillan muttered, "what have we- AH DAMMIT!" The Scotsman threw his communications headset on the ground. A loud, shrill pitch blasted from it. Price was about to remove his headset when he heard a series of clicking noises on the other side, followed by a sentence in Russian.

Without thinking, Price spoke into his radio, "Whoever is attempting to communicate, this is Lieutenant Price, speaking for the United Kingdom." No answer. Price continued to talk. "We mean you no harm. We come in peace."

"Well it sounds like you don't speak Russian," a smooth, casual voice responded, "but it sounds like you speak in movie cliches instead." A bizarre figure emerged from the metallic object. It was about 7 feet tall and walked on unnaturally balanced feet. It carried what looked like a sniper rifle over its shoulder and had its lizard-like head aimed at MacMillan and Price's position in the hotel.

"Who are you?" Price muttered in confusion.

"Nobody important. Listen, your Russian friends made it clear that I'm not welcome here and I don't plan on staying long. I was nearby and I had some trouble with my ship. I can't go home until I acquire some radioactive materials. I knew I could recover them on Earth and I was under the impression that this area was abandoned, but apparently I was mistaken. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to gather what I need."

"What do you mean by radioactive materials?"

"Well," the creature said, chuckling, "I don't mean to sound insulting but um, this," he said, gesturing to his ship, "is a little complicated. I don't know if I could explain it to a human. Maybe after another thousand years of evolution or so."

"You expect me to believe that your intentions are peaceful?" Price challenged. "After what you just did?"

"They fired first, Human. I did not come here to cause trouble but I AM leaving this planet regardless of who gets in my way. Also, judging by what my visor is telling me, you are currently looking at me through the barrel of a Barret .50 caliber sniper rifle. I don't have my gun aimed at you. Just walk away. I'm about a half-mile from the power plant. All I need to do is retrieve what I need, bring it back here, and after five or ten minutes of calibrations, I'll be on my way. No human will ever see me again."

"Price," MacMillan interrupted, "whatever he's telling you, you have to shoot him while we have the chance."

"He says he doesn't mean us any harm."

"And what if he's bluffing? He knows we are in a position to stop him right now. He'll say anything."

"I don't know if-"

"We can't take the risk. You saw how he tore through those men. I am giving you an order, Lieutenant."

"What if-"

"Price! Take the shot!"

"Price," the creature said calmly. "Don't take the shot."

"Stop him, now!"

A gunshot rang out and a second later, the creature's head snapped back. "You got him!" shouted MacMillan.

A flash of yellow light flared and extinguished around the alien. He rubbed its head, otherwise unfazed by the bullet that had just struck him. "That was a damn good shot, Price," he said with his usual calmness. "Think you could do it twice?"

Price remained frozen in awe. A moment later the yellow light swelled up around him again and disappeared. "Whoops," the creature said. "You missed your window. Don't say I didn't warn you Lieutenant." The alien pressed a few buttons imbedded into the armor on his wrist. Suddenly, a small section of the ship's roof came to life. It spun and aimed at Price and MacMillan.

"Get away from the window!" Price yelled as the two attempted to flee. Before they had made it two feet, they were both knocked to the ground by an explosion. Price struggled to breath through the smoke. They had to get out of the hotel. It was only a matter of time before the turret fired again or the entire building collapsed.

"Captain!" yelled Price as he struggled to see through the smoke. He almost tripped over MacMillan as he staggered through the wreckage. The Scotsman was on his back with a chunk of the ceiling on his legs, pinning him to the ground.

"I'm sorry, Price," MacMillan coughed.

"On your feet, soldier! We! Are! Leaving!"

"It's too late. I can't bloody move." Macmillan struggled to wave away the Lieutenant. "You've got to rappel out of here before the roof collapses."

"I'm not leaving you to die!"

"Are you daft? You can't rappel down with me on your shoulders. Don't kill us both. Go!"

Price looked ahead and saw the window. "Get out of here!" MacMillan bellowed. Price took off for the window and rappelled down as fire began to consume the building.

He slid down the building clumsily, struggling to control his body despite the uncomfortable ghillie suit he was still wearing. When he touched down on the ground, he sprinted away from the hotel. Once he had put distance between himself and the near-collapse building, he fell to one knee.

"Goddammit, MacMillan!" he shouted, coughing out the last of the smoke from his lungs. The Lieutenant rose to his feet. He only had his pistol left. He had left the Barret in the hotel. That creature had some sort of shield protecting it. Without something as powerful as the Barret, he had no hope of destroying it.

Suddenly, his headset spoke to him again, "I assume you know that you won't get far with that pistol." Price froze in his tracks. "But why don't you just drop it on the ground for good measure?" Price did as he was told and let his weapon hit the concrete. He scoured the buildings around him looking for the creature. "Don't look too hard," the headset said. "I'm on the ground about 30 feet behind you. Which means I'm 1,170 feet closer than I have to be for an easy kill."

Price turned around and faced the creature. The alien had snuck up behind him as Price fled the hotel. The alien weapon was aimed at him.

"I land on a planet of humans," the creature said, "only to be pressed into combat against a talking bush." Lieutenant Price was confused, but then he remembered how ridiculous he must look to the alien in his ghillie suit.

"For the record," Price said, "I was under orders to shoot you. If it makes you feel better, the man who gave me the order is probably still burning to death in that hotel behind you."

"It doesn't," the alien said solemnly. "I'm familiar with war and the tragedies that come with it. I heard you trying to rescue him on the radio. For what its worth, I admire your courage and I am genuinely sorry about your captain."

After a pause, Price asked, "Do you have a name?"

"Back home, they call me Garrus."

"Well, Garrus, I don't suppose you're going to let me walk out of here."

Garrus broke eye contact with Price. "It's funny that you mentioned orders a minute ago. The only reason I was near your planet at all was to study your species. We had to see if you were ready to join us."

"What does that mean?"

"It's complicated. But it doesn't matter. My superiors decided that you were too primitive. No offense."

"None taken."

"In any case, I spoke with my superiors after I destroyed the hotel. They told me that I need to destroy the evidence of my arrival here. That includes the humans who saw me."

"I see," Price muttered, not revealing any emotion.

"If it makes you feel better, Lieutenant, I would have let you live."

Price took a deep breath. "It doesn't," he said sternly.

Garrus looked as if he had something to say, but just sighed and aimed his rifle.

Suddenly, Garrus and Price both heard a deep, Scottish voice on their radio call out, "Oi, Suzy!"

A gunshot came from the wreckage of the hotel. Garrus was almost knocked off his feet by the impact. The alien recovered, wheeling around and firing three, precise shots at the hotel.

As Garrus finished off MacMillan, Price noticed his shields fizzle. This was his opportunity. Price dove to the ground and picked up his pistol. He fired five shots into the alien's back. Garrus stumbled forward but the shots didn't seem to harm him. Price cursed himself as he realized that he had aimed for the thickest part of the alien's armor. Despite this, Garrus turned around with a look of panic on his face. The yellow lighting around him began to short circuit and then shut off.

"Damn," whispered the alien. Price had destroyed Garrus's shield generator.

Price emptied the rest of his magazine but Garrus dove out of the way behind a concrete road block. Price began to backpedal and reload, desperately seeking cover from Garrus's inevitable return fire. Suddenly, he felt his feet slip out from underneath him. He had backpedaled over a steep hill. He rolled 20 feet, bruising himself on the thick, dead vegetation that had reclaimed the city. He came to rest on his stomach, dazed from the fall. He heard Garrus approach the top of the hill. He was a dead man. In his daze, he braced himself for the green light that would tear through him like the Russians.

But the shot never came. Garrus wasn't moving from the top of the hill. Price wanted to look up and see what was wrong, but then he realized that his stillness had saved him. He was blending with the thick vegetation because of the ghillie suit.

"Now I see why you wear that ridiculous costume," Garrus said through the headset. "Just a minute ago, I think we achieved a level of mutual respect but know this: right now it's you or me... and there's no way it's going to be me. You can't hide forever, Price. I have all the time in the world." Price was concerned. Would he have to wait until nightfall to sneak away?

Out of the blue, Garrus muttered, "Not these guys again." Price strained his ears and heard Russian voices. He could hear Zakhaev shouting. The remaining Russians were advancing on Garrus. Price could hear bullets ricocheting over head. There was a bizarre sound which he assumed was Garrus's weapon firing. This was his best chance to make a break for it. Price got to his feet and ran alongside the hill. He couldn't see Garrus or the Russians but he needed to distance himself from the shootout.

Price saw a flash of light up ahead and two Russian soldiers flew over the hillside. He ran over to them to recover their weapons. "Russians are so bloody predictable," he muttered when he saw that one was carrying an AK-47. His mood changed when he saw that the other was carrying an M21 sniper rifle. If he could find a vantage point, he could still stop Garrus. Judging by the severely reduced amount of Russian gunfire, he knew he would have to act quickly. Up ahead, there was a small church. He could find and kill Garrus from the tower. Still, the idea of being locked in a direct sniper duel with Garrus was hardly ideal. Price needed to tip the odds in his favor. Thinking quickly, he removed the outer layer of his ghillie suit. He positioned the suit as if there were a person in it lying prone and facing the road. He placed the AK-47 at the front of the decoy body. With any luck, Garrus would fire a round into the suit. Then, when he went to investigate, Price could pick him off while the alien was in an area with no cover.

As a finishing touch on his decoy, Price left a cigar next to the head of the costume. After he killed Garrus, he would return to smoke that cigar. That would make a nice celebration.

Price sprinted as quickly as he could. The gunfire had already stopped on the road. If Garrus was still alive, he would be returning to finish the job. He covered the 150 yard run to the church in half a minute and collapsed inside. He struggled to regain his breath as he leaned against a wall where he was out of sight.

Price froze as he saw that the church was occupied. A grizzled stray dog lay sleeping in one of the pews. The dogs in these parts were not friendly and this one looked as big as a bear. Price crawled underneath the large stain glass windows, desperately trying not to make noise. He gently pushed open the door to the tower and got to his feet once he was inside. He conquered the stairs as fast as his aching legs would allow.

Near the top he spotted a hole in the rotting wall that was big enough to snipe through. He looked through, hoping to see Garrus in the field. No sign of him. Maybe the alien hadn't spotted the decoy. Or maybe the Russians had killed him. Looking at the decoy through the sniper rifle, Price's stomach dropped. It had been flipped over. Garrus had already been there.

Price withdrew back into the safety of the tower, but he was too late. Garrus's voice came in through Price's headset. "Did I just see movement in that church tower?" Price resisted the temptation to swear out loud. He didn't want to give Garrus the satisfaction. "That was a great attempt with the decoy. It drew me out into the open. Probably would've gotten me too if it hadn't taken you so long to choose a spot in the church. Of course, looking at this church tower, I don't think you're going to find a better vantage point than the one you were just in. The top of the tower offers no cover and every other gap in the wall is too small to snipe out of. Actually, maybe that one on the second floor will do nicely. Walk down there and take a look so you can let me know what you think. Price? You listening?

The Lieutenant leaned against the wall. He was cornered. It would be damn near impossible to move around on this stairwell without Garrus spotting him through one of the holes in the walls. This damn church was falling apart. Termites and time had done so much damage that there was even a hole big enough that Price could see through the tower and the roof of the church. He looked down and saw the giant, sleeping dog three stories below. He had forgotten about the dog.

Garrus continued to taunt his prey, trying to push him to make a mistake. "Of coure, Price, if you want to make a break for another building that would be difficult."

Price looked out through a small gap in the wall, struggling to see where Garrus could be hiding.

"I don't want to give too much away but from where I'm standing I can see the exits of that church pretty damn well."

It had to bet that apartment complex. It was the closest building to the decoy body Price had laid down. But it was four stories high. Which window?

"You know I don't want to bring up another one of your disadvantages but it's getting close to sunset and I'm fairly confident that I see better at night than you humans do."

Price started to unlace one of his boots. He had an idea. A terrible idea. Unfortunately, he was in a position where a terrible idea was all he had left. Price picked up his boot and lifted it over his head. He threw it as hard as he could, through the hole in the tower leading into the Church. The boot collided with a vase, knocking it over. The sleeping dog leapt to its feet, running to look for the source of the noise.

As the dog ran for the exit, Price rose to face the apartment complex. He saw a green beam of light and heard the dog whimper in pain. Second story. Fourth window from the right. Garrus had taken the bait. Price saw the alien realize his mistake and turn his head back to face the church tower. Price pulled the trigger and Garrus flew backwards into the apartment leaving a splatter of green blood against the wall behind him. It was over.

Price fell to one knee, exhausted. He took a deep breath and muttered, "Don't worry, MacMillan. I got him." He forced himself back to his feet and left the church. He walked past the dead dog and entered the apartment complex to find Garrus's corpse. He slowly walked up the stairs to the second floor, suddenly aware of how beaten down his body was. He rounded the corner into the room where Garrus had been shot. The blood stain had dripped down the wall, but there was no body.

There was nothing on the ground except for the cigar Price had left with the decoy in the field.

Suddenly, the room was filled with green light and Price fell to his knees in pain. He rolled onto his back, groaning. Garrus was standing behind the door, waiting for Price to confirm the kill. Garrus's face was scarred along his right eye where Price's bullet had grazed him.

"You-" Price said, clenching his teeth through the pain, "are one tough... ah... one bloody tough bastard."

Garrus put his gun aside and took a knee next to the dying human. He picked up Price's cigar and offered it to him. Price took it, placed it in his mouth, and pulled out his lighter.

"You're a damn fine warrior, Price. I hope for the sake of my species that our next interaction with humans is a peaceful one."

Price lit his cigar and took a long drag. "Thought I had... I thought I had got you. But at least one of us gets to go home."

"You were a fraction of an inch away from taking off my head. It was an honor to receive this scar from someone with your skill."

Price began to chuckle to himself as he closed his eyes. "You know what went wrong? I didn't realize how far away you were. I should have taken the Coriolis effect into account. If there's an afterlife, MacMillan will never let me hear the end of this." Price continued to chuckle until his breath stopped all together.


End file.
